


fell from the heavens

by stray_dog_sick



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Gen, POV First Person, i'm topical sometimes, its about the cricket and clover tweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 16:43:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16223165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stray_dog_sick/pseuds/stray_dog_sick
Summary: It's been an interesting day for everyone in the Panic! family/fan base.





	fell from the heavens

**Author's Note:**

> i am not going to stop talking about this for a very long time  
> might add more chapters as the story unfolds
> 
> title from 'nearly witches (demo)' by panic! at the disco

The music industry is a fickle thing. I used to think about it a lot, and then I started focusing on things that weren’t the never-ending cycle of touring, writing and recording. It’s not that I don’t want to make music anymore, I just wasn’t a fan of the fame. I could never headline Reading and Leeds Festival, draw the kind of crowds Brendon manages by himself. That isn’t my style.

I regret leaving sometimes though, like when kids buy tickets for Z’s shows just to talk to me for five minutes. In their eyes, I’m still famous. They probably know more about the band I founded than I do, and that makes them forget that no one who doesn’t like Panic! at the Disco knows who I am. I am not Brendon Urie, Broadway star, presenter (but not winner or nominee) of the 2017 Grammy Award for Country Duo/Group Performance.

A cappella music is interesting, sue me. I don’t watch those award shows for him.

Anyway, I am not Brendon Urie. I am Ryan Ross, former guitarist and lyricist, current almost-ghost. If Patrick can get away with not using social media, then so can I, thank you very much. Although I should probably keep a closer eye on it so that I don’t end up not receiving royalties when two albums I wrote are repressed. I’m a little bit pissed. And disappointed, but not surprised, as the kids would say.

It does give me some power, though. I could do something Panic! related and they can’t hurt me because no one likes it when both parties are trying to sue each other, that’s just bad for business. Revenge ideas are where my creativity dries up, unfortunately, so I guess I’ll just be a starving artist for the rest of my sorry life. That’s kinda how I wanted it, after all.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I grab it, wondering which of my friends wants to hang out at some hipster cafe today. I look at the screen and find the correct answer is ‘none of the above right now’. Instead, Jon Walker demands my attention. That’s a rare sight.

“Ryan, you will never  _ believe _ what happened today!” he says excitedly once I answer. He is far too chipper for me sometimes.

“No, please tell me, I am all ears,” I respond as I drag myself to the coffee pot in the kitchen. I will need caffeine to get me through any day that starts with a phone call from Jon Walker. News from him tends to be of huge importance, in some way or another, because we aren’t at the stage again yet where we call just for the sake of it.

“My parents found one of my old laptops.” Here he pauses for a moment, and I hum curiously. Carry on, Jon, tell me about the laptop you forgot existed that is still running Windows XP. “It has Cricket and Clover demos on it.”

Suddenly I’m glad I wasn’t yet drinking coffee because my mouthful would be all over the counter. “No shit?”

“No shit! I’m getting them to send it to me. We should totally listen to them together.”

I think about my empty schedule, and the hundreds of dollars I am probably owed. Well, when the opportunity presents itself. “I’d like that. Call me when you get it.”

I smile as Jon ends the call. The label really wouldn’t like two ex-members releasing three never-before-heard songs, would they? The devil works hard, but those who are fucked over after leaving a band that wouldn’t be successful without them work harder.

I install Twitter on my phone for the first time in forever, knowing Jon keeps these things more up-to-date than I do, and spend five minutes trying to remember the login details. Luckily Shane didn’t change these; if the world still used Facebook I’d be screwed.

Of course, he’s already sent a tweet out to me, Brendon and Spencer. It’s not like they give either of us their phone numbers, after all. I scroll through the replies for a while and the fans seem to love the idea, and I can’t blame them. Jon and I don’t exactly give them a lot of content nowadays. Fans love new content, they’re permanently starving, ready to devour anything we say.

I like Jon’s tweet, my first activity on Twitter in two and a half years. That should keep them happy until the laptop arrives.


End file.
